


Girls Don't Count

by uhuraprime



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ableist Language, Cisgender, F/F, Heterosexism, Internalized Homophobia, cis swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhuraprime/pseuds/uhuraprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s not cheating, love,” Zayn assures Louis. “Girls don’t count.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls Don't Count

“You want me to _what_?”

Zayn sighs into the skin of Louis’ bare stomach, looking up at his girlfriend with those big brown eyes he _knows_ Louis can’t resist. “You don’t have to, Lou,” he assures her. “It’s just, I –” _Would really like you to_. Zayn doesn’t have to finish his sentence for Louis to know exactly what he means. He never does.

“You want me to cheat on you,” Louis says slowly, letting out a sigh of her own.

“No, not cheat – Louis, it’s not the same thing as cheating,” Zayn nearly pleas. “It’s, like – it’s just for fun. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“If it doesn’t mean anything then why do you want it so bad?” Louis says, and she knows she’s being snarky but she can’t bring herself to care. Zayn’s asking her to do something that goes against everything she stands for. He’s asking her, after spending so much time trying to make this whole _monogamy_ thing work, to kiss other girls. In front of him. What the hell?

Zayn kisses Louis’ stomach lightly, sends shivers down her spine. “Lou, like I said, you don’t have to,” he assures her. “I just think it’d be nice. Spice things up, you know?”

“I’m not a cheater, Zayn,” Louis says, and she doesn't have to add the words _not anymore_ at the end of that sentence for Zayn to know she means them.

“It’s not _cheating_ , love,” Zayn assures her. “Girls don’t count.”

 

The thing about Louis is she’s reflective. A lot of people assume that because she’s a party girl, or whatever, that she’s some idiot with no conscience, but she’s not. Louis is intelligent. She knows she is.

Right now she’s lying, eyes closed, on top of Gemma’s pickup truck. The sun is shining warm on her face, tickling the place where her shirt rides up just a little, exposing her tummy. She used to be insecure about that part of her, thought she was fat and gross and worthless.

It’s hard to keep feeling that way after the hottest guy in school sweeps you off your feet, after he laughs at your jokes and calls you baby.

Thinking of Zayn makes Louis remember why she’s here in the first place, moping on top of Gemma’s truck while her best friend is texting God-knows-who beside her. What Louis and Zayn have is _good_ , it’s – she likes things how they are. Why do things have to change? Why do they have to keep on changing?

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Gemma mumbles, locking her phone and lying back to snuggle into her best friend’s chest.

“Zayn,” Louis replies quietly, turning so the side of her head can feel the sun’s warmth. Gemma’s the type to just eat up gossip, the kind who can’t keep a secret for the life of her, but with Louis it’s different. Louis knows that when she vents to Gemma, she won’t tell a soul.

Gemma hums, sounding slightly surprised. “Trouble in paradise?” she asks.

“Something like that,” Louis says, and shrugs.

They sit there for a long time, basking in the warmth of the sun and thinking their respective thoughts. That’s the thing about being friends with Gemma – she’s loud and wild and crazy, but she’s quiet when she needs to be. She knows when Louis needs silence and when she needs laughter.

Gemma adjusts herself so that she’s facing Louis. “Wanna talk about it?” she breathes, testing the waters.

Louis shakes her head, avoiding Gemma’s gaze. “Maybe later, yeah?” she murmurs. “For now I just wanna be.”

 

“So what brings you to our neck of the woods, Louise?” Anne asks as she passes the mashed potatoes to Harry, offering Louis a kind smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while, darling.”

Louis smiles back. Anne is like her second mother, and she’s missed the warmth that the Styles house radiates. “Just uni stuff,” Louis says, and it’s only a half-lie. “Mum’s got me jumping through hoops to try and get my grades up, so I haven’t had a spare minute to breathe.”

Anne clicks her tongue softly, eyes warm. “I’m sure you’ll be a great lawyer, Louise,” she says assuredly. “And your mother is only looking out for you.”

“I know,” Louis says, blushing as she does. “She’s got my best interest in mind, all that.”

“She does,” Anne nearly squeals, and the whole table erupts into laughter at that. It's no secret that Anne has a bit of a soft spot for Louis' mum (after all, they've both been through divorces and single-motherhood and the struggles of raising teenage girls – it's a bonding experience).

They turn to more causal conversation then, and Louis only participates when necessary. Mostly she just basks in the feeling of being with Gemma and Anne and Harry, in her home away from home. She almost forgets about the events of her day, about her conversation with Zayn – almost.

At some point Gemma, ever studious, decides to excuse herself so she can go finish homework in her bedroom. Louis assumes that, for most people, this would be the time to make an exit. But frankly, Louis isn’t most people, and Anne and Harry aren’t just her best friend’s family. That’s been established. So she sits with them a while longer, talks about things that don’t really matter. Louis isn’t exactly sure how she ends up migrating to Harry’s bedroom, but she’s not complaining.

Harry’s room smells like roses mixed with mint-flavored gum. Her walls are covered in posters from bands and movies Louis has never heard of (Harry’s always been a bit of a hipster that way). Faintly, Louis hears the shower running, hears Harry humming along to some indie song that includes shaky vocals and a too-long guitar solo. Louis nestles into the covers of Harry’s bed, smiling into the freshly washed cotton. It smells like Harry, she thinks, and then wonders just when she memorized Harry’s scent.

Harry starts to sing along as a new song starts. Her voice is amazing. Louis thinks she should’ve known sooner that Harry was such a damn good singer but, well, she’s _Gemma’s_ best friend. Not Harry’s.

It’s a song Louis doesn’t recognize. Fitting, considering the contents of Harry’s room. Louis doesn’t think she’d be able to catch half of the words if Harry weren’t singing them so clearly, voice raspy and deep yet still feminine. Louis closes her eyes, starts to nod off, and it’s not until she hears Harry shut the water off that she realizes it’s slightly creepy to hang out in someone else’s bed while they’re taking a shower.

 _Whatever_ , Louis decides. She _is_ known for being a little eccentric.

“ _She’s got a boyfriend anyway_ ,” Harry belts, and then stops in her tracks at the sight of Louis. “Hi?”

She's got a towel wrapped tight around her body like a dress, and is using her hands to drain the water out of her hair with another. "You know that's such a waste, yeah?"

“Um,” Harry says, scrunching up her nose in confusion. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You’re using two towels,” Louis says, gesturing towards Harry’s near-naked form. “Lottie’s been really into being green and all recently. She says reusing towels could be the thing that saves our earth, or whatever.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry laughs shakily, settling her second towel so it sits on her shoulders. “Tell Lottie to try having my hair for a day. See if she can deal with this shit.”

Louis watches, amused, as Harry groans and runs a hand through her thick curls. Harry’s face scrunches up into a dramatic display of annoyance. Louis can’t help but laugh out loud at that.

Harry falls silent then, eyeing Louis for a moment. “No offense, Louise,” she starts, and Louis scoffs at the use of her full name.

“Only my mum calls me Louise, _Harriet_ ,” she snorts. “And that’s when she’s cross with me. You know that.”

“Sorry,” Harry says, and Louis swears she sees the other girl blush. “No offense, _Louis_ , but why exactly are you in my bed right now?”

Louis giggles, rolling over and pressing her face into the soft, white fabric beneath her. Harry’s bed is extremely comfy. She can’t believe it’s taken her this long to try the thing out.

“What,” she says after a moment, voice muffled by the fabric. “You don’t want me here?”

Harry seems flustered when she replies. “No, it’s not that it’s just – shouldn’t you be doing this in Gemma’s bed? _She’s_ your best friend, after all.”

“Well, sure,” Louis says. “But she’s a little wrapped up in homework right now.” She rolls back so that she’s facing Harry’s ceiling, leaning up on her elbows so that the other girl comes into view. “And anyway, you’re much more fun.”

Harry smiles, avoiding eye contact with Louis and biting her lip in a way that Louis would’ve found pathetic coming from any other girl. Most girls try too hard to look cute, or sexy, or whatever but with Harry… Harry doesn’t do anything because of how it will make her look. Everything about Harry is organic, real, and refreshing as hell. Louis smirks. _If only Harry were a boy_ , she thinks.

Harry makes a gesture then, one that Louis interprets as _look away_ , and so she does. She rolls back again on her belly, smiling into Harry’s mattress as she does. It’s been a while since Louis spent a little quality time with her favorite little hipster. She’s missed Harry.

 

“So, what’s up with you?” Harry says as she crawls onto her bed and plops herself beside Louis. “Haven’t been around here often.”

“Like I said at dinner,” Louis starts. “Uni stu –”

“No,” Harry interrupts, and it’s not like her to do something remotely impolite, so Louis decides not to be insulted. “I know you’ve got uni stuff, because Gemma does too, but that can’t be the only stuff.”

Louis pauses for a moment, and then shrugs. “’S a long story,” she admits.

“I’ve got time,” Harry replies.

“Get a few drinks in me and maybe then I’ll spill some secrets, Styles.”

Harry nods, looking a little downcast, and for a moment Louis feels guilty. Harry’s such a genuine girl, and she only ever wants the best for other people. It’s not like she’d judge Louis for what’s going on with her and Zayn, or her mum, or anyone. She thinks about apologizing, but instead she says, “How about you talk first, yeah? Warm me up a little.”

Harry shrugs her shoulders, avoiding Louis’ eyes. “I dunno where to start.”

“At the beginning, silly,” Louis suggests, voice light, and gestures for the other girl to sit next to her. Harry hesitates a moment and then crawls into the bed beside Louis, letting herself be pulled into the older girl’s shoulder. Harry’s hair is still damp from her shower but Louis lets the brunette rest her head on her shoulder anyway, smiling into the younger girl’s hair.

“Okay,” Harry says slowly. “Um.”

Beside Louis Harry takes a deep breath, running a hand along the comforter beneath them for a minute. Louis contemplates saying something. The curly-haired girl seems so nervous, which is – Louis isn’t intimidating, is she?

“There’s this boy,” Harry finally continues. “And I really like him. And, um, I guess I’m afraid that if I kiss him I’m not gonna be any good.”

“Oh, _Harry_ ,” Louis starts, and then stops in her tracks. What she’s thinking is _everyone’s shite at kissing the first time_ but, then, that’s not really what Harry wants to hear. She remembers her own first kiss. It had been dreadful. If someone had told her beforehand that it was going to be that way, she thinks she might've exploded. “You just need practice, is all.”

“ _He_ already _has_ practice,” Harry whines. “’M not gonna compare.”

They fall silent for what feels like forever. Louis finger’s itch for something she can’t quite place, and she keeps them busy by running them through Harry’s hair. She thinks of earlier – about her conversation with Zayn – and suddenly has an idea. “Hey,” she says, and nudges the younger girl. “What if – what if you _could_ practice?”

Harry looks up at Louis, their noses almost touching. “What d’you mean?” she breathes, and Louis is being attacked by the scent of Harry’s minty breath. Harry smells like mint and roses and strawberries all at the same time, and Louis' head is spinning as she breathes the other girl in. “How do you get _practice_ before your first kiss?”

“Well,” Louis says. “Think of it as a free pass.”

Harry opens her mouth to speak but Louis covers it with her own before she can. Harry lets out a soft, surprised sigh, and even with her eyes closed Louis can sense the way Harry doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Or mouth, for that matter. “Let me guide you through it, yeah?” she whispers, pulling away just enough so she can speak into Harry’s lips.

“You –” Harry gasps, and then pulls Louis down by the back of her head and kisses the older girl with urgency.

Louis has had many kisses. There was her first, all tongue and no precision. There were the hundreds of pecks she shared with her male friends. There were party makeouts, kisses she barely even remembered. And then there's  Zayn. He's a good kisser, even with his whisky breath and itchy stubble. Zayn likes to pick Louis up like a ragdoll, likes to kiss her hard and take the lead. Harry is rough, too, but as the younger girl pulls at Louis’ hair it feels different, somehow.

 “Easy on the tongue, love,” Louis tuts, pulling away from Harry again so she can brush a strand of curly hair behind the girl’s ear.

Harry lets out a happy sigh, allows Louis to gently push her so she’s lying on her back. Louis has never taken the lead in things like this, but as she licks across Harry’s bottom lip it feels almost natural. As their tongues collide Louis starts to think maybe Zayn wasn’t so off with the whole kissing girls thing. Her whole body feels electric, cheeks warm as Harry grabs at her hair with one hand and grips her hip with the other.

Louis moves her attention from Harry's lips to her neck, nipping and biting at the other girl's skin the way Zayn never lets her. _Hickies are for girls_ , he argues, and it's not like Louis minds being on the receiving end of this deal, but she's missed the pleasure of marking someone else. Harry moans, hands scrambling at Louis' back. " _Louis_ ," she whines, and the sound of it shoots through Louis' entire body. All of this is new to Harry, Louis remembers.

"Louis," Harry says again, voice urgent, and Louis smiles into the skin of the younger girl's neck. " _Louis_!"

Louis pulls off of Harry, looking up at the other girl in confusion. Harry's eyes are wide. "What is it, love?" Louis breathes against Harry's neck, smirking when the other girl shivers.

"What about _Zayn_?"

Louis giggles, pressing a light kiss to the red spot she's left on Harry's neck. "Harriet," she coos. "Love. Haven't you heard? Girls don't count."

Louis moves so that she and Harry are face-to-face, watches as the other girl sucks in a breath. Harry's gaze flickers to Louis' lips and then back to her eyes. "So you're saying... kissing a girl isn't like kissing a boy?" she asks, and Louis nods. "And this doesn't really mean anything?" Louis nods again. Harry seems to hesitate for a moment, hand ghosting over Louis' cheek, and then she dives in again, smashing their lips together and wrapping her arms around Louis' neck.

 _Maybe_ , Louis muses as she breathes in Harry's scent. Maybe this is exactly what she and Zayn need.

**Author's Note:**

> okay hi guys so this is the first chapter of my first 1d femslash fic (and first 1d fic at all i guess because i haven't really published any of the ones i've written before this)  
> we'll see where it goes i guess! if you wanna find me on tumblr my url is getsby


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